


Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori

by MadeNightwing



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blood and Injury, Do you think they had to be forced to fight?, Marrow you moron, Near Death Experiences, Not helpless children, These are young adults, Trauma, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29421024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadeNightwing/pseuds/MadeNightwing
Summary: Partners from the start. Partners to the end.Spoilers for V8, Ep 9.
Relationships: Flynt Coal & Neon Katt
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Dulce et Decorum est Pro Patria Mori

_‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’_

‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’ Flynt blurted as he flew up from his rack.

_‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’_

‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’ He slung his sheets over his left shoulder, remembering to scoop up both top and bottom sheets this time and not let them drag on the ground.

_‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’_

‘Stand to, Hallway Three!’ A quick check in the mirror to make sure his pyjama top was tucked into the pants, then he bolted outside and into the hallway before Drill Sergeant Skip could call out a fourth time.

The kangaroo faunus was standing at the top of the hallway, bouncing on his heels with his usual murderous aura surrounding him. To his relief, Flynt realised that he was one of the first ones out of the barracks room. The corporals were already storming down the hallway and bellowing into the rooms using language Flynt wasn’t even sure existed before yesterday.

‘You!’ Sergeant Skip thrust the blade of his hand under Flynt’s nose. He hadn’t even seen the grey-haired instructor move. ‘Why are you out here?’

‘Because you told me to, Drill Sergeant!’ Flynt shouted back. He wasn’t really one for shouting, but the instructors would flat out pretend they hadn’t heard you unless you bellowed everything at the top of your voice.

‘And you left your teammates behind? Unacceptable!’

Flynt gave a yelp as he was hurled back into the room and bounced off a bed.

‘You are part of a team! You will work together or you will die alone!’ Skip roared. ‘Hurry up! Hurry up! You’re burning time, cadets! Time is blood!’

‘Here!’ The girl who’d been assigned to his room grabbed his hand. ‘Come on, we’ll help the others!’

By the time they’d sorted everyone in the room out, all the other teams had made it out and now stood at attention with their sheets over their shoulders. Rather than escaping attention, as Flynt had hoped, he was now the center of it as the instructors stormed down the hall.

‘A well drilled Atlas infantry squad can be out of their bunks, into full armour and be ready to fight within four minutes. It took you _eight_ minutes just to be out here with your pyjamas and sheets! Not good enough, cadets! Not good enough at all! Cadet Coal!’

‘Yes, Sergeant?’

‘You’re the team leader of this unruly mob! On your guts, son, and push till I say stop!’

Flynt bit his lip against the protest that he’d been ready first, it was the rest of them that had slowed him down. Somehow he knew that wouldn’t do any good.

‘Not you, Cadet Katt!’ Sergeant Skip barked. The girl had gotten down next to Flynt and was doing her best attempt at a push-up alongside him.

‘Didn’t you say we had to work together or die alone?’ The bright haired girl replied. The two others in the room with them, Flynt couldn’t remember their names, nodded and got down beside her. Soon all four of them were pushing in unison, a strange expression on Skip’s face as he stared down.

‘Huh…’ He turned his back. ‘We shall see.’

\-----------------------------

‘First weekend leave, first weekend leave! Where do you want to go?’ Neon zipped around, her skates flashing as she bounced down the rails. ‘Oooooh, I know this amazing little bakery down on Fourth Street!’

‘Slow it down!’ Flynt laughed as he followed her down the steps. ‘You’ll trip over something?’

‘Oh please, I never miss a beat.’ As if for emphasis, Neon flipped over his head and did an artistic spin on the landing. ‘See? I…’

‘Hey!’ A well-dressed woman staggered away as Neon nearly bowled her over. ‘Watch where you’re going, freak!’

‘Hey!’ Flynt’s hackles shot up. ‘You can’t talk to her that way. Come back and…’

Neon had already moved on, zipping down the street as if without a care in the world. With an angry grunt, Flynt jogged after her. ‘Neon!’

‘Ugh, we need to get you a scooter or something.’ Neon swung around a lightpole to face back toward him. ‘Need to keep up with me.’

‘Neon, that woman…’

‘That woman what?’ Neon seemed genuinely confused by his question. ‘I didn’t bump into her.’

‘But she called you a…well, a bad name.’

‘Oh that?’ Neon shrugged. ‘I tune that stuff out. It throws off my beat.’

‘It doesn’t matter if you…she shouldn’t have said that.’ Flynt was still fuming, despite Neon’s nonchalance. ‘I don’t know how you stay so calm about it?’

Neon’s smile widened. ‘Let me show you.’

\------------------------------

‘Here you go my lovelies,’ the small woman behind the counter beamed at them. She pushed the two brown paper bags across the glass. ‘You eat up, hear? I remember my Elm was nought but skin and bone after her first six months in the Academy.’

‘Thanks, Mrs. Ederne.’ Neon leaned across the table to plant a kiss on her cheek. ‘You’re the best!’

‘Oh, off with you, you cheeky young thing.’ The little baker mock-brandished a rolling pin at her. ‘And that’ll still be five lien each.’

Once they were back out on the street and munching on some (admittedly very delicious) donuts, Flynt still couldn’t shake some of his lingering temper.

‘So what?’ He mumbled past the mouthful of confectionary. ‘Are you trying to say that some good donuts and a sweet old lady makes up for everyone else’s ignorance?’

‘What? No.’ Neon fished out a rainbow sprinkled donut. ‘I just wanted some good baking. Don’t read so much into it.’

\----------------------------

The other teams in their year were confusing at times. Flynt knew he wasn’t alone in that.

Neon scratched her ear with her tail as she looked down at the lawn below them. ‘So…I’m pretty sure Orsino is in love with Olivia?’

‘I think so.’

‘But she likes Seb?’

‘Yes.’

‘And Seb likes her?’

‘Yes.’

‘And Seb is Vi’s twin?’

‘Unless they’re the same person, then yes.’

‘And Olivia keeps mistaking Vi for Seb?’

‘Look, there’s some strange stuff happening in ATOM and FOSV. Make of it what you will.’ Feste piped up next to her. ‘I don’t fully understand it and I’m FOSV’s team leader. And how we got ‘Phosphorus’ from FOSV, I don’t know.’

Neon took a quick glance behind her and a smile quickly spread across her face. ‘Are you questioning General Ironwood’s team naming abilities?’

‘I’m just saying,’ Feste shrugged. ‘FNKI is not a colour. And neither is Ace Operatives. And…’

He paused. ‘He’s right behind me, isn’t he?’

‘Please continue, cadet.’ General Ironwood rumbled. Behind him, Captain Ebi of the Ace Operatives was barely muffling his laughter. ‘I do so enjoy a good debate over the colour naming convention.’

‘So do I, sir. So do I.’ Feste began shuffling to the right. ‘However, I have lots to do. Love triangles to sort out. Class seniors to prank. That kind of thing.’

Ironwood watched him go with a raised eyebrow. ‘Miss Katt?’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘That was a textbook ambush. You have a head for tactics.’ He offered her an approving smile. ‘Keep up the good work.’

\----------------------------

Kobalt collected the drinks from the bar. Twelve beers. Four each for Team FNKI, Team FOSV and Team ATOM. Only three would be drunk by the last team, Maria, Andy and Olivia all staring red-eyed at Toby’s old seat.

‘He pushed me out of the way…’ Andy whispered. ‘That psycho faunus with the horns just…just cut him in half.’

Orsino tried to pat Andy on the shoulder. ‘He died for Atlas. Went out like a soldier…’

‘He didn’t die for anything!’ Maria snapped. ‘He died fifteen thousand miles from home for _nothing._ ’

She sank back into her seat, eyes clouding over. ‘If he could die, any of us could die.’

‘War is coming,’ Ivori observed. His hand shook as he picked up his glass. ‘War is coming and any of us could…’

Neon glanced at Flynt. His eyes had fallen to his beer. ‘Flynt?’

‘It’s not here yet, though.’ Flynt’s hand tightened around his glass. ‘We’ve got time to rest. We’ve got time to train and get ready. When the war comes, we’ll be ready.’

He raised his beer. ‘To Toby. And to everyone else who fell at Beacon.’

For a moment there was silence as they took a deep sip. A silence broken by Neon coughing furiously. ‘Ugh…that tastes awful!’

The raucous laughter around the table drew some strange looks, but Flynt didn’t care. Let them come. The Grimm. The White Fang. Let them all come. Atlas would be ready.

\-----------------------------

_‘Stand to, Hallway Three! Armour up!’_

‘Stand to, Hallway Three! Armour up!’ Flynt scrambled out of his bunk, avoiding colliding with Neon on their way out the door.

An instructor stood at the head of the hallway, already armoured for battle save for his helmet.

‘Four minutes, cadets!’ The instructor barked. ‘Get a move on!’

Flynt stripped out of his pyjamas as soon as he reached the armoury, pulling on the full length bodysuit as Neon prepped his cuirass. As soon as he was outfitted, he turned around to help her with her own equipment. Every Atlas cadet had a full set of armour issued to them during basic training. The mobility afforded by a huntsman outfit was all well and good, but sometimes you needed armour to back up aura.

‘Team leaders, report in!’

‘Phosphorus up!’

‘Atom up!’

‘FNKI up!’ Flynt barked as he fastened the last catch on Neon’s pauldron.

‘Three minutes, fifty seconds! That’s what I like to see!’ The instructor turned on his heel. ‘On me! Let’s go!’

Part of Flynt wanted to ask if it was a drill. But he already knew that it wasn’t. He hadn’t even been sleeping in his bunk, thoughts tossing and turning in his mind as he wondered what was happening down in Mantle. Impacts had shaken the academy, but the instructors prowling the corridors had forestalled any attempt to investigate.

An instructor led the way out into the Atrium. The rest of the third year was gathered there, as was the fourth year. The second and first years were still rushing along, armour only halfway done up.

Colonel Anderson, the deputy headmistress, was standing on a raised platform, the students marching into position in front of her. Like them, she must have been woken sharply, her red hair was out of its usual bun and her uniform was unfastened at the collar. Her eyes, however, were awake and alert.

She held up a hand for silence, then began to sign quickly. Neon hissed with frustration, her grasp of Atlesian sign language not sufficient to pick up on the rapid-fire orders. Flynt translated, his eyes not leaving the dais.

‘A mega-Grimm has landed in the farmlands. Disgorging thousands of smaller Grimm, including multiple exotic classes. First Brigade has blunted the initial assault with heavy casualties. Second Brigade is landing to reinforce. Third Brigade is being prepared now.’

Anderson turned to the left to address the first years directly.

‘First years will be assigned to guarding evacuation bunkers and the subway entrances. Local police have been equipped for anti-Grimm duties, but they don’t have the training for it. We’ll be relying on you to act as the last line of defence.’ Flynt saw a lot of relieved faces amongst the first years and privately couldn’t blame them. If that was the easiest of their assignments…

‘Second years will guard evacuation flights and assist in treating the wounded.’ More relieved faces.

‘Third and fourth years will join Third Brigade and reinforce the front line.’

\-------------------

‘Why did it have to be us?’ Andy’s hands were shaking as badly as the dropship was, the doors rattling as another explosion detonated nearby. ATOM’s team leader was gripping the hilt of his rapier like it was a lifeline. ‘It’s just like Beacon again. It’s just like…’

‘Don’t be silly, Andy,’ Fest chirruped. ‘Beacon didn’t have a giant-ass whale spitting Grimm everywhere. This is much worse than Beacon.’

No one felt like correcting him, Neon noticed. Not Vi or Seb, the twins silently holding each other’s hands. Not Maria, staring at the wall with the same sad smile she’d worn ever since she returned from Beacon without Toby by her side. Not even Orsino, his back ramrod straight and his eyes fixed on the battlefield ahead, had the heart to correct him.

If Third Brigade were being called in, it meant that the First and Second Brigades hadn’t been enough to do the job.

‘Why us?’ Andy whimpered again. ‘Oh gods, why us?’

‘You mean the honour and glory of your kingdom isn’t enough, Andy?’

Neon stiffened as Flynt stood up. He still hadn’t donned his helmet, and without his hat he seemed half-naked.

‘Flynt, I’m…I’m scared…’ Andy lowered his head. ‘I got through the Fall, Toby saved me…I didn’t think I’d have to go through this again…’

‘I’m scared too, man.’

Every head whipped up at the admission. Flynt had always been the best. The calmest. The most casual and laid back out of all them. And now, with a wry smile, he held up his hand so they could watch it shake.

‘Any of you know that little bakery down on Fourth Street? Ederne’s Eatery?’ His eyes met Neon’s. They both knew it. Knew the beaming wife and the booming laugh of her husband. ‘Do you expect them to fight the Grimm? With their rolling pins?’

‘No, Flynt.’ Andy whispered.

‘What about O’Marley’s? The pretty waitress you were always too shy to ask out? How long do you think she’ll last against a Goliath?’

‘I…I don’t know…’

‘Me neither.’ Flynt looked around at them all. ‘If you don’t want to go out there, stay on the dropship when it flies back. You’ll do more harm than good if you’re not ready for this. But ask yourself: If not you, then who? If not now, _when?_ ’

 _‘Clear doors! Sixty seconds out!’_ The pilot held up a fist. _‘Godspeed, troopers!’_

‘It’s a simple calculation.’ Flynt pointed back toward the gleaming silver towers of Atlas. ‘Everything I love is there.’ He pointed toward the Grimm. ‘And everything I hate is there.’

When the dropship stopped and the doors opened, every last one followed after him.

\----------------------

‘Reinforcements to Trench A, it’ll take you forward! Third Brigade to the front, let’s move it!’

‘Move it, Alpha Company!’

Flynt lead the way through the chaos. The farmland had been churned to mud under his feet and he was glad for the armour. His usual outfit would have been ruined in seconds. He watched as a Manta flew past on a strafing run, so close to him that his teeth rattled from the overpressure.

‘Oi! You lot, over here!’ An armoured figure with hastily stencilled on captain’s pips waved him over. ‘You our reinforcements?’

‘Yes, sir!’ Flynt ducked again as a Beringel flew past, a huntsman hacking at its neck with an axe. ‘FNKI, ATOM and FOSV.’

‘FNKI?’ The captain flicked up his visor. ‘You’re shitting me?’

Flynt blinked as he met the steel-grey eyes of Drill Sergeant Skip. ‘Sergeant?’

‘It’s captain since about twenty minutes ago.’ Skip glanced at all of them. ‘Well damn, we’re enlisting the kids now?’

A growl rose at the back of Flynt’s throat. ‘We’re not kids, _sir_. We’re all twenty. We all fought at Beacon. And we all volunteered for this.’

Skip poked his head over the parapet and winced. ‘No offence, kid, but this is starting to make Beacon look like a pub brawl. Look, you all stay back in the rear area and protect the evac zone. Leave the fighting to the soldiers.’

Andy pushed up. His hands were still shaking, but his jaw was set firm. ‘We were called out to fight, sir. We’re ready to fight for Atlas. And we’re not kids.’

Where once the former drill sergeant had looked at all of them with vague contempt, now he just looked at them with pity, and the faintest gleam of respect. ‘You’re not kids. Alright. Andy, take your team and join up with One Platoon. Fest, you’ll support Two Platoon. Mr. Coal, you’re with me.’

Around them, the reinforcements surged into the trenches. Field guns roared furiously, keeping up a constant tattoo of high explosive shells into the ranks of the advancing Grimm. The barrels on the guns glowed red hot, the gunners stripped to the waist as they loaded and fired without pause. A fresh-faced officer sprinted up and down the line to check the adjustments on the sighting systems, her face blackened with smoke and one eye swollen and bleeding.

_‘Battery, rapid fire! Fire at will!’_

At that rate, Flynt knew that the gunners would be deafened and concussed by the overpressure of their own guns. But the constant barrage was the only thing keeping the Grimm from overwhelming the fragile line of white and blue ahead of him.

 _‘I need more bandages!’_ A medic screamed. Kobalt fumbled for his own, but the press of troops pushed him past the aid station before he could fish it out.

_‘More water for these acid burns!’_

_‘The jerry cans are empty. I’ll get more.’_

_‘Ammunition here! Ammunition here!’_

_‘Make way for heavy weapons!’_

A Paladin slammed into a Goliath above one of the flank trenches, the machine tearing up the ground as the pilot wrestled the monster to the ground and began pummelling it. A helmetless soldier cradled what was left of a man in an officer’s uniform, heedless of the world around her as her tears fell onto a bloodied face.

By the time they got to the frontline, Flynt had emptied his stomach of every meal he’d eaten recently. Men and women wearing flashes from First Brigade, or Second Brigade or Rapid Response Unit-Five and half a dozen other battalions and regiments were standing in and out of the trenches. A bird faunus sailed overhead, his long rifle cracking as he sniped oncoming Grimm. A giant man with a cybernetic arm was gently pouring water into the mouth of another soldier.

A woman with a bandage over both her eyes sat behind a mounted machine gun. Next to her lay a man with bloodied, helpless arms.

‘Adjust your fire up a bit,’ the man instructed. ‘Up a bit more. Perfect. Rapid fire!’

Skip held up an arm to halt them. ‘Another twenty metres and we’ll be in full contact!’

He grabbed Flynt and Neon. ‘Don’t think of home. Don’t think of Atlas. Don’t do this for your parents or your friends or anything back there. Focus on the one beside you, you hear me? They’re all that matters. Here and now _they_ are the whole world and the whole world is in them.’

 _‘Alpha Company, move up!’_ A woman’s voice called from the forward trenches.

Neon cocked an ear. ‘Was that Winter?’

‘Well, good luck all of you,’ Skip said. He pulled on his helmet and racked the charging handle on his rifle. ‘When this is over, the drinks are on me. Here’s to a bloody war and a quick promotion.’

Flynt’s hand found Neon. Neon found Kobalt. Kobalt found Ivori.

His whole world was a girl he’d barely known sharing his punishment. It was chocolate coated donuts with rainbow sprinkles. It was General Ironwood’s approving smile. It was him and Fest cracking out a jazz duet at O’Marley’s. It was cold beers and a fuzzy pink cocktail with his team. It was a good world. He was afraid to lose it.

The fear welled up in his heart, joining with the defiance and the anger. It made for a hell of a song.

Flynt raised his trumpet to his lips and let the Grimm enjoy his masterpiece.

**Author's Note:**

> If you couldn't tell, Marrow infantilizing young adults as helpless kids (especially ones who had already fought at Beacon) was my least favourite part of the recent episode. Who else is there, Marrow? Who else is left to fight? Do you happen to have a spare battalion hidden up your sleeves? I'm with Elm on this one, the time for personal emotions isn't when your entire kingdom is about to be Grimm chow.


End file.
